


Blast From the Past

by Dramaticdragon



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Comedy, Fluff, M/M, Time Travel, Viktor loudly defending his husband, i just wanted to write this, there is ZERO science behind this stuff, time travel for the sake of having fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:40:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26146546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dramaticdragon/pseuds/Dramaticdragon
Summary: For a short burst, your past selves can see what their future holds, if even just for a few hours. After retirement, Viktor sometimes forgot his past self was... a brat.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 14
Kudos: 247





	Blast From the Past

**Author's Note:**

> THERE IS NO SCIENCE OR WORLD BUILDING IN THIS!!!! I just wanted to write crack "young viktor calls yuuri fat and viktor dies defending yuuri's honor" fic. I blame Arminita-Muscaria on tumblr, she talked me into it. So yeah there's 0 world building. They're retired and that's all you get fam. enjoy.

Yuuri was minding his own business, dusting off the old television entertainment set; they should really get rid of that DVD player, they have nearly every streaming service. Viktor was wrapping up the cord from the vacuum, as he just finished vacuuming their bright red rug.

Suddenly, his peaceful cleaning time was interrupted by a bright flash in the middle of the living room.

Yuuri recognized what that flash had to be, it was far from unheard of these days. A “Flash from the past”, as it was colloquially known.

And just like Yuuri thought, out from the flash popped a startled, disoriented young Viktor.

He took there, glancing around, trying to catch his bearings. Thankfully, he appeared in the familiar apartment, but the décor was very different these days. He seemed to recognize his “future self”, and seemed to reorient himself a little.

“Hello, there,” Modern-day Viktor said, reaching forward to catch Younger-Viktor, in case he fell- time jumps were uncomfortable, after all-, “I wasn’t expecting you.”

There was no way Viktor could have known he would just here, at this time. The memories of their time skips were always gone the moment they pop back in their own time, as if no time had passed at all. It was a tricky, weird thing.

“Would you like to sit down?” Yuuri offered, pushing their heart shape throw pillow out of the way on the couch.

Younger-Viktor nodded, delicately sitting down. Viktor and Yuuri stood quietly, letting him collect himself. Viktor, thankfully, was historically quick on his feet, so it hardly took a minute before Younger-Viktor was just fine.

“What year is it?” He asked first, looking up to his future self.

“It’s been 13 years,” Yuuri answered, for him.

“Wait,” Viktor laughed, quietly, “How can you tell exactly how old he is?”

“You only had that jacket when you were 17,” Yuuri answered, pointing to the soft red jacket Younger-Viktor wore, “Remember, you lost it at Skate America that year?”

“Oh, wow, you have wonderful memory!” Current Viktor laughed cheerfully, as Younger-Viktor mumbled “I lose my jacket?” 

“Well, anyhow!” Viktor says, clapping his hands together, “I guess you’re here to visit! Good news, young me, Yuuri and I are just finishing cleaning! I think you’ll have a much better impression of how we live today, at least.”

Younger-Viktor looked around the room. He clearly recognized it as his own apartment living room (Viktor lived here for years and years, after all), but took in all the new décor.

“I’ve never jumped like this before…” Younger-Viktor mumbled, “Well, I don’t think I have.”

Before Yuuri could say something to try to comfort him, in case the jump was upsetting him, Young-Viktor faced them again.

“Thank you for hosting me, then!” He said, with the most see-through “media smile” Yuuri had ever seen. Well, no, he used to have that exact smile plastered over his bedroom wall for years, but since he’s gotten so used to Viktor’s real smile, the fake one is a shock to his system.

The shock and discomfort must have shown on his face.

“Is something wrong?” Young-Viktor asked, giving Yuuri yet another media face. This was the face that Yuuri knew was the “I don’t actually care what you’re about to say or ask me, but if I look like I do, you’ll do what I want” look. Viktor had his own little language of how he worked with the media, especially when at this age, that was just about all the socialization he actually got.

“Oh, no,” Yuuri answered, wiping the startled look of his face, “Would you like some water?”

“Yes, please,” Young-Viktor nodded, still with the smile Yuuri was starting to find somewhat creepy, frankly.

Yuuri was hardly out of the living room into the attached kitchen before he heard young-Viktor ask:

“Who is he?”

The question itself wasn’t a problem. While Viktor was 17, Yuuri would have just turned 13, and was far from competing anywhere near Viktor. But there was something about… the _way_ he asked it. Like Yuuri was something strange, someone not allowed in Viktor’s future (Current?) apartment.

“His name is Yuuri Katsuki!” Viktor answered. Yuuri could tell in his voice he was a little startled, too. Viktor surely knew what he was like at age 17, but it’s been a pretty few years since he was like that. And he was probably torn between comforting his younger self to not overwhelm him, versus ranting and raving about his husband. Yuuri figured it would take maybe five minutes before Viktor gave in to that-

“And?”

“He’s my wonderful husband!”

Yuuri really needed to stop underestimating Viktor like this.

“You’re married?!” Young-Viktor asked, leaning forwards in his seat in surprise.

By now, Yuuri was re-entering the room with a water bottle, placing it on the coffee table in front of Young-Viktor.

_I think I’ll call him Vicchan,_ Yuuri thought to himself, so he could actually call them different things in his head.

Vicchan seemed to have no qualms with looking Yuuri up and down once, then looking back at Viktor in confusion.

Viktor, now sitting next to Vicchan, just looked back at him. Confused that Vicchan was confused, or something.

It seemed Vicchan’s “be nice to the fans” façade was now over, with what came out of his mouth next:

“He’s kind of fat, isn’t he?”

Now, if this happened back when Yuuri was first coached by Viktor, or worse yet, _before_ that, he would have been devastated and ran away in tears. These days, the juxtaposition just makes him cover his mouth before he bursts out laughing.

“HEY!” Viktor shouted, reflexively smacking Vicchan’s shoulder like a panicked parent.

“What?!” Vicchan started, leaning away from Viktor.

Viktor just looked at Vicchan, baffled, then back to Yuuri, twice, his expression some combination of “what’s wrong with you?!” and “Yuuri honey don’t listen to him, you’re so beautiful”.

Thankfully, Yuuri was happy to plop himself down on the armchair across from the couch and watch his Viktor’s figure this out. He knew he had a “retired” body. Not quite full mom-bod that he knew was coming in the future, but he wasn’t exactly in pristine skating form any more.

“ _Why_ would you _say_ that?!” Viktor asked, finally, staring down Vicchan.

“Sorry,” Vicchan huffed, clearly not sorry at all, “I just thought we had better taste than this.”

Yuuri couldn’t help it, he smacked the arm rest, trying not to burst out laughing. Part of him was actually laughing at his _own_ past self, too- “You used to think this little brat was hot stuff! He’s just as bad as Yurio was!” he told his past self. Memories of him staring at beautiful posters were suddenly much more comedic. Yuuri was also struck with the quick thought that he had grown a lot, if he can laugh at this like he is. Viktor’s constant loving does wonders for one’s self-confidence and security, it seems.

“What’s _wrong_ with you?!” Viktor asked, voice raising in frustration, “Yuuri, did I act like this when I was 17?!”

“Yes, he’s literally you!” Yuuri said, “I didn’t even know you at 17, though, remember? Well, know you _personally_ , I mean.”

“Were you a fan of mine?” Vicchan asked, finally looking at Yuuri with curiousity instead of bratty-distain.

“I was,” Yuuri said, nodding. He didn’t add the little “I still am!” that he wanted to, because he wanted to try to look like less of a fanboy and more of a ‘husband’. It was kind of like impressing a lovers family?

“You married a fan?” Vicchan accused, side-eyeing Viktor.

Viktor’s face was starting to get red. He opened his mouth to scold Vicchan, again, but was interrupted-

“Ew, you look like Yakov!” Vicchan insulted.

That was the line that broke the dam. Yuuri burst out with uproarious laugher from the armchair, one hand one his face and the other smacking the armrest. _You look like Yakov!_

Viktor smacked a hand to his face, in frustration, and probably a little embarrassment.

“You were a little bratty, huh?” Yuuri laughed, teasing Viktor.

Viktor kept his face shoved in his hands for a moment, before looking fiercely at Vicchan.

“Take all that back! Yuuri is perfect! And handsome! I’m his fan too! Apologize!” Viktor scolded, loudly.

Yuuri didn’t add that Viktor forgot to demand an apology for the “Yakov” comment. It was flattering that he was too focused on Yuuri’s honor than his own.

Vicchan just side-eyed Yuuri, instead.

“Well!” Viktor prompted.

Vicchan shrugged.

“Why’d you get married?” Vicchan asked, instead.

Viktor was probably too wrapped up in his own frustration and righteous anger to notice the sad undertone to Vicchan’s question. Yuuri didn’t miss it, however.

“Because we love each other,” Yuuri answered on behalf of Viktor, saving his throat from more shouting. Viktor was usually so calm, until someone said anything about Yuuri.

Vicchan glanced back to Yuuri. He seemed to be trying to get a good look at him this time, to _actually_ size him up, instead of snap judgements from a snobby, spoiled teen.

Yuuri considered the facts for a moment, while Vicchan analyzed and Viktor took trained, deep breaths. He knew, logically, what Viktor’s childhood had been like. Frankly, his childhood, teenage years, and almost all of his 20’s, honestly. They all had a common theme- a dangerous mixture of loneliness, talent, and childish narcissism from seeing his own reflection in one too many gold medals. These things ended up becoming a spiral of Viktor getting astoundingly bratty in his teen years, which eventually just became cold cynicism in his early twenties, and essentially morphed into depressive loneliness in the later ones. It wasn’t a good environment to put a developing mind into. Too much pressure, too much praise from anonymous fans, and not enough real relationships. Even after _retirement_ , Viktor still struggled trying to find a balance between vanity and self-care, between affection and desperation, between “me time” and emptiness. Yuuri was very proud of Viktor’s growth, but at age 17, he was still on the downwards slope.

Viktor surely knew this too. In fact, he was probably angry at Vicchan in part because he simply didn’t want to be reminded of those years. But then again, he really did just get like that when someone insulted Yuuri, so…

Yuuri could tell from Vicchan’s stare, that he had some questions floating around in his head. Were they heartbreaking ones, like “does he love me?”, or spoiled little brat ones, like “his glasses make him look stupid”. Yuuri wasn’t sure.

“Viktor,” Yuuri said, softly, “Would you like me to bring you two some lunch?”

It was, after all, getting close to lunch time. Maybe some “boys talk” would do the two of them some good.

Viktor nodded.

“Thank you, dear,” Viktor said as Yuuri re-entered the kitchen. It was a very open floor plan, so it’s not like he couldn’t hear what they were saying while he grabbed and plated leftovers. It wasn’t as fancy as fresh food, but it was leftovers of Viktor’s favorite, so that had to count for something.

He couldn’t quite make out what Vicchan whispered, but he did hear Viktor’s dramatic reaction:

“HE IS NOT MAIL ORDERED!”

Yuuri almost dropped a very breakable plate at that comment.

_Geez_ , Yuuri mentally scolded Vicchan _, Have a little faith in Viktor…_

The microwave made a little noise while it heated up their lunch, so he couldn’t hear all of their next conversations. Viktor wasn’t yelling, so that was a plus.

When Yuuri brought them their plates, he realized Viktor was probably ranting and raving about Yuuri the whole time.

“-And his step sequences were just the- oh! Thank you, honey!” Viktor said, taking the plate.

“You really beat my record?” Vicchan asked as he took his plate as well.

“I did,” Yuuri answered, proudly, sitting back down with his own lunch.

“How did you even meet?” Vicchan asks.

“Skating.” Yuuri answered the _moment_ Vicchan asked, not letting Viktor have even a moment to elaborate.

Viktor knew exactly what he was doing, and pouted at him from the couch.

Vicchan simply nodded, going back to his food.

“Do you like it?” Yuuri asked about halfway through their meal.

Vicchan nodded again, this time actually enthusiastically.

“This is my favorite, actually,” He said, “Did you make this?”

“I can’t believe it’s been your favorite for so long!” Yuuri smiled, but knew he’d have one favorite food from birth until the day he died, “And yes, I did.”

“It’s really good…” Vicchan mumbled, shoving more in his face.

_Is Yurio related to Viktor, somehow?_ Yuuri thought with a laugh, remembering the first time Yurio had katsudon. It was rather uncanny.

“My Yuuri is such a good cook!” Viktor beamed, already cleaned off his plate.

Yuuri smiled back to Viktor, and watched as Vicchan kept glancing between them. Yuuri could practically hear the gears churning away in his little head. Even though Viktor was pretty much at his max height at 17- _little beanpole-_ , he seemed so small in Yuuri’s eyes. Weird, because he used to seem so big back when Yuuri was young. Yuuri wondered if part of his “smallness” was due to the fact that Vicchan seemed to have this need to hold himself like he was bigger. Like his presence needed to remind you of his gold medals, instead of just being a 17 year old, who slouched and leaned.

Yuuri just hoped he wasn’t still thinking he was a mail order bride…

“Oh, I know!” Viktor hollered, grabbing his phone from the charger and running back to the couch, “Watch this!”

As soon as he said this, Yuuri knew what he was about to do. Show the Stammi Vicino duet skate. He had it saved on YouTube, Vimeo, and his photo reel. He showed it to, uh… everyone.

In his defense, so did Yuuri.

Yuuri couldn’t help it, and got up to sit squished against Viktor’s side, but Viktor made space in the middle of the couch for Yuuri to go. So Yuuri sat squished between two Viktor’s, and held Viktor’s phone so the three of them could watch Stammi Vicino.

He couldn’t help the silly, giddy feeling of having two Viktor’s on his sides, leaning against his arms to watch a video on a small phone screen.

They were silent, all appreciating the show. Viktor and Yuuri watched with loving nostalgia, and when Yuuri finally glanced away to look at Vicchan, he was surprised. A small part of him worried Vicchan would think it was cheesy, or predictable. But instead, Vicchan’s eyes were lit up, sparkling as he watched, enraptured by the skating. Yuuri heard a tiny little gasp as he watched the lifts, the jumps, and the perfectly synchronized (and romantic!) step sequences. Eventually, the music faded to an end, and Yuuri’s personal favorite part- the ending lift. Viktor had all the previous lifts, but Yuuri, unbeknownst to Vicchan, had all the stamina. So they ended their performance with Yuuri perfectly lifting Viktor up above his head, as the music closed off. Vicchan was silent, but his wide, shining eyes, and soft red cheeks were loud enough for him.

Viktor, of course, wasn’t as quiet.

“That was wonderful!” He shouted, jumping to hug Yuuri, which pushed him further against Vicchan in the process. Poor thing was getting only a little crushed.

“Just as good the six-thousandth time?” Yuuri asked, jokingly. It would be just as good every time.

“It is!” Viktor declaired, already rewinding it to start over and watch again.

Yuuri tried to stop him from playing it again (we have a guest!), but as soon as Viktor finished rewinding, Vicchan grabbed the phone and held it in front of his face. A better, full view this time.

Yuuri was silently giggling at his childish enthusiasm, and was going to make a comment about it, until he saw Viktor’s expression. He seemed… startled?

“Viktor?” Yuuri whispered, trying not to interrupt Vicchan’s video.

“Oh, sorry,” Viktor mumbled, shaking his head quickly, “It’s just… I think I looked the same way when I saw you first skate to this song…”

Yuuri took a moment to process what Viktor said. At first, he thought, “huh? You saw me skate it when we skated together, what do you mean?”, but then he remembered- the video the triplets surprise viral video, the video that started everything that changed Yuuri’s life (he refused to give any credit to the banquet, frankly).

Yuuri glanced back at Vicchan’s expression. Focused, more focused than he had been this whole time, and genuinely impressed. Yuuri looked back to Viktor, feeling somehow shy.

“You always seem to have this effect on me,” Viktor whispered as the music swelled, softly kissing Yuuri’s cheek. Yuuri would be remiss not to kiss him back.

Eventually, the song came to a close once more.

Vicchan slowly, silently, handed the phone back to Viktor, and stared at his lap for a moment. Yuuri and Viktor were both silent, not wanting to interrupt his deep thinking.

Then, Vicchan blinked slowly, and looked up at the both of them, still squished together rather tightly, with the hand not holding the phone swung across Yuuri’s shoulder.

“…Really?” Was all he whispered, after what felt like an eternity.

Viktor nodded, happily, but also in a calming way. His frantic enthusiasm had finally calmed down. Maybe seeing Vicchan’s suddenly visible desperation had calmed him.

“Really.” Viktor answered, equally quiet, putting his phone away to completely squeeze Yuuri in a tight hug.

Yuuri couldn’t help himself: he reached over to place a soft hand on Vicchan’s shoulder.

Vicchan looked like he suddenly had a thousand more questions, ready but waiting.

“Don’t worry,” Viktor says, his voice less reserved and quiet, going back to his silly giddiness from early, “You’ll convince him to marry you eventually!”

“Hey,” Yuuri giggled, “ _I’m_ the one who proposed!”

“I would have!” Viktor pouted, “You always surprise me, though… Oh! And little me!”

Vicchan blinked, a little disoriented from being so suddenly snapped out of his revering mood, and nodded.

“You may be snobby now, but don’t worry,” Viktor started, continuing with a wink and another squeeze of Yuuri, “As it just so turns out, you have a thing for chubby guys!”

“Viktor!” Yuuri laughed, jokingly pushing Viktor away, but Viktor just clung tighter, making an over dramatic show of trying to kiss Yuuri’s cheeks.

“When do we meet?” Vicchan asked, and Yuuri realized this was the first time he truly looked into Yuuri’s eyes, not just “through him”. Now, he looked like a hopeful, anxious little child.

“It’s going to take a bit…” Yuuri said, sadly, “But don’t worry, I promise I’ll find you.”

Suddenly, just as fast as he appeared, another flash of light went through their room, and Vicchan was gone.

Yuuri stared at the empty spot on their couch for a moment, before turning back to his modern-day Viktor, with a big smile.

“A thing for chubby guys, huh?”

**Author's Note:**

> Deleted scenes:   
> -Yuri making fun of younger viktor  
> -young viktor trying to steal his future selfs husband  
> -Yuuri being like "hey sign this autograph in case my past self visits. I'll give it to him, he'll freak out lol"
> 
> Feel free to message me on tumblr: Dramaticdragon


End file.
